


If You're on a Mission You Got My Permission

by beatperfume



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Background Simon Lewis/Maia Roberts/Jace Wayland, Explicit as Hell, F/F, Fuck Or Die, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 23:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18062447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beatperfume/pseuds/beatperfume
Summary: Izzy wishes Clary and Jace would just get back together already so she can stop hopelessly pining. A routine mission gone sideways might change her mind.





	If You're on a Mission You Got My Permission

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** This is sex pollen fic. Although no participants are unwilling, they don't have a chance to discuss consent before they have sex. If this triggers, squicks, or bothers you, give this one a pass.
> 
> This was supposed to be quick and fun and ended up taking much much longer than I expected. Much thanks to [paperiuni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperiuni/pseuds/paperiuni) for the constant encouragement and for the beta.
> 
> Porn logic should be applied to any and all medical theories or thought processes.
> 
> Title from Britney Spears' Give Me More, because how often do I get this kind of opportunity?

Izzy’s plans to spend the night catching up on the latest forensic journals are interrupted when Clary knocks on her door brandishing a carton of ice cream and two spoons.

“I thought you might need this,” Clary says with a smile. Izzy has no idea what she’s talking about for a second, and then she remembers casually mentioning that she and Edgar Raventide weren’t going to be going on any more dates to Clary earlier in the day.

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Izzy says even as she steps back to allow Clary into her room. 

“Still sucks though,” Clary says. It’s too early for pajamas, but Clary’s in jeans and an oversized t-shirt with a stretched out neck, slippers on her feet, clearly planning on a night in herself. She makes herself comfortable on the end of Izzy’s bed and pries off the lid of the ice cream. “So what happened?” she asks and holds out a spoon. Izzy takes it and settles herself across from Clary, the ice cream between them. Fudge swirl, which is Izzy’s favorite and which she knows was not in their freezers three hours ago. 

Izzy takes a bite before she answers.

“It really wasn’t that serious,” she says. “We didn’t really spark, so it just seemed like a waste of both our time.” And maybe Izzy has matured in the past six months, because she’d rather stay inside with her journals than go out with someone who’s definitely not the right person for her. And she’d much rather hang out with Clary than do anything.

Which is part of the problem, really.

Clary frowns. “Someone thinks you don’t spark? What kind of an idiot is he? You’re very sparkable.”

Izzy has learned not to read into it when Clary says stuff like that by now, so she can laugh and take another bite of ice cream. “Well, he did make it clear he’d be happy to fuck me anyway, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Of course he’d be happy to,” Clary says. Then, “Ew.”

“Exactly.”

“Here’s to better prospects, then,” Clary says.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna take some time off from dating,” Izzy says. “Focus on me for a while. Plus, I’m so busy anyway.”

“If that’s what you need, then that’s what you should do,” Clary says.

What Izzy needs, she thinks, is for Clary and Jace to stop dancing around each other and just get back together already. She’s pretty sure that with them making out all over the Institute again it will be a lot easier to convince herself that Clary is definitely, definitely completely taken, and then maybe she can start moving on. As it is, even the concept of moving on is out of the question when Clary is on Izzy’s bed, so warm and close and smelling so good.

“Speaking of prospects,” Izzy says, “where’s Jace tonight?”

Clary shrugs. “With Maia and Simon, probably.” She says it so casually that the implications don’t register at first, and when they do Izzy chokes on her ice cream. Clary rubs her back until she can breathe again, which isn’t as helpful as she thinks it is.

“Wait, do you mean that the three of them are…”

“I’m pretty sure. Jace refuses to talk about it, but you know, Simon was really nervous about it and also wanted to make sure I was okay with it. It was cute.” She shrugs again.

“I’m sorry,” Izzy says.

Clary takes a big bite of ice cream before answering. “We couldn’t get it back, you know? After everything. And Magnus tried, and we tried, but it’s just…” she gets a faraway look in her eye, then blinks and refocuses on the ice cream. “Honestly, I think it’s better this way. We both get to move on now instead of wasting years on something that wasn’t going to work.”

That sounds a lot like Clary just trying to make herself feel better to Izzy, but she would never say so out loud. Plus, it’s hard to believe that after all drama and the sacrifice and the epicness of their relationship, Clary and Jace are just done now.

It makes Izzy too hopeful, and her heart can’t afford any more hope.

“Well, here’s to the single life then,” Izzy says. “Wanna do face masks and give each other manicures?”

“Yes,” Clary says immediately, and with feeling.

Which is of course when Izzy’s phone rings.

She probably would have ignored it, but it’s Underhill, and he’s manning Ops tonight, and that means it’s business.

“I’ll go get dressed,” Clary says before Izzy even answers the phone. “Meet you there.”

* * *

“Sorry for interrupting your night off,” Underhill says when they meet him in Ops ten minutes later. “But with Alec and Jace out of the Institute and two teams already engaged, you two are it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Izzy says. “The ice cream will keep.”

Underhill nods and pulls up the 3D map. “We started with increased police reports here,” he zooms in to 6 block radius in lower Manhattan. “Heat signature shows a possible demon presence, but we can’t determine type or size. SOP. Recon first and touch base. Call for backup if you need it, hopefully the patrol teams will be free by then.”

Izzy nods and sees Clary doing the same. Nothing out of the ordinary, and Izzy would hate to call Alec and Jace back for nothing. _At least some people are getting laid around here_.

Once out of the institute they activate their runes: glamor, speed, and sure-footedness, and head to the target area.

By now they’ve worked together enough that it’s easy to fall into a two person recon formation, Izzy in front, Clary behind, without even speaking. Izzy’s whip moves restlessly against her wrist, ready for action. When her bracelet starts to pulse with a low glow they know they’re close.

The heat signature leads them to a small parking lot, unmanned and empty after business hours are done. They hop the gate easily just as the demon passes beneath an orange perimeter light.

“What kind of demon is that?” Clary asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” Izzy whispers and grabs her phone to take a picture and send it to Underhill. It’s some kind of lesser demon, bipedal, about twice as tall as Izzy and with two bulbous appendages around its throat. Izzy’s never seen anything like it, but since Lilith, they’ve seen a fair share of demons they’ve never heard of before.

Her phone buzzes in her hand. “Patrol team is on its way for backup, but we’re clear to engage if we think it’s solitary.”

“Do we?” Clary asks, easing one of her kindjals out of its sheath. 

“No other heat signatures, no other disturbances. I think it’s on its own.”

“Great,” Clary says.”How do you want to do this?”

What Izzy wants doesn’t matter though, because the wind must shift and the demon lifts its head, roars, and rushes right toward them.

“Nevermind,” Clary says and dances back, her other kindjal in hand.

Izzy motions for her whip and wraps her hand securely around the handle. The demon is fast, but not crazy fast and doesn’t look particularly agile from the way it’s running, but unknown demons have unknown powers and it’s better to be careful.

When the demon is in range she gets it around the throat with her whip, a hard tug stopping it in its tracks. Clary darts forward, going for a slice across the chest and the face before hopping back out of the range of its arms. The demon roars again and before Clary has a chance to retreat further, the bulging things on its throat ripple. It opens its mouth and belches out a vapor straight into Clary’s face.

“Clary!” Izzy shouts and tighten her hold on her whip with one hand, her other reaching for her seraph blade. Clary’s bent over, coughing, and when Izzy inhales she feels why. The vapor stings her throat and makes her eyes water. “I can’t hold it and kill it,” Izzy shouts, hoping that Clary is in good enough condition to hear her.

The demon opens its mouth again, its throat rippling. Faster than mundane eyes could track, Clary lunges, thrusting her dagger straight into the demon’s mouth.

It dissolves into ash without spraying them with vapor again and Izzy urges her whip back to her wrist with a sigh of relief.

Clary coughs again twice before leaning over her knees and breathing hard.

“You okay?” Izzy asks. She lifts Clary’s face up so she can inspect it for burns or cuts. It’s red from exertion and coughing, but otherwise fine.

“Yeah,” Clary says, voice rough. “What was that stuff?”

“Some sort of defense mechanism, I guess,” Izzy says. “Any trouble breathing?”

Clary shakes her head. “I could use some water though.” She grimaces. “And a shower.”

Izzy nods. “I’ll call Underhill and tell him to divert the patrol. Let’s go home.”

* * *

That night, Izzy can’t sleep. 

It’s unusual because a good kill usually puts her right out, but tonight she tosses and turns. She kicks off her pajama bottoms, then the comforter, then sprawls out on her stomach and buries her face in her pillow. She thinks she dozes off for a little while, but wakes up again, desperately thirsty.

She drains her water bottle and then just sits against her headboard idly wondering if getting herself off will get her to sleep. Just as she’s debating which vibrator to use, there’s a knock on her door.

Her clock informs her it’s past 4 am, so she figures it’s nothing good.

When she opens her door it’s to Clary, in boxer shorts and a t-shirt, hair disheveled. 

“Is everything okay?” Izzy asks, even though she can see it’s not. Clary’s cheeks are flushed and sweat is dampening the hair around her face.

“Izzy, I feel…” Clary says, but trails off, swaying a little on her feet. Izzy automatically reaches out and put her hand on Clary’s forehead. Clary groans and leans into it, eyes closed.

“You’re burning up,” Izzy says. “We need to get your to the infirmary.”

“No,” Clary says, still leaning into Izzy’s hand. “I need you.”

“I can help when we get to the infirmary,” Izzy says, pushing Clary’s sweat-damp hair back from her face. Clary nuzzles her cheek into Izzy’s palm and lets out a short desperate sound.

“Izzy,” she says. She opens her eyes and they are bright and clear and for one moment, completely lucid. “There’s nothing in the infirmary that can help me. I need _you_.”

Then she leans forward and kisses Izzy right on the mouth.

Izzy forgets everything for a long minute, lost in Clary’s soft lips and her warm mouth and the hands that wrap around her waist. It’s everything she’s wanted for months and months and everything she thought she’d never be able to have. She kisses Clary back fiercely, sinking her hands into Clary’s hair and pulling her closer. It isn’t until Clary moans into her mouth and shifts her hips against Izzy’s that Izzy remembers what’s happening. Even then, pulling back from Clary’s kiss feels like the hardest thing she’s ever done.

“Clary, wha–” is all she manages to say though.

“Please, Izzy,” Clary says, her face buried in Izzy’s neck. “I can’t think. I need you.” She crowds Izzy back a few feet until the backs of Izzy’s knees hit the bed. She just manages to make herself sit on the edge of the bed instead of falling, but Clary climbs right onto her lap, straddling her left thigh.

“Izzy,” Clary groans and Izzy bites back her own groan when Clary grinds down with her hips. Clary’s boxers are damp against her thigh, her nipples hard where they brush against her own. _Angel_ , Izzy thinks, _she must be so wet_ , and her brain nearly short circuits.

“Wait,” she manages to get out. She holds tight to Clary’s hips to keep her from squirming, but that just means she’s holding Clary’s heat against her and it’s hard to think like that. But Clary’s is hot against her – too hot, and she needs her brain to work because Clary might be in danger.

“I don’t think I can,” Clary says and then nips at the skin below Izzy’s earlobe. _Fuck_. Izzy needs to think fast.

Obviously the demon vapor from earlier in the night is having some sort of delayed aphrodisiac effect. That’s the only thing it can be. If that’s all it was, Izzy would be inclined to take Clary to the infirmary anyway and wait it out. But Clary’s temperature seems to be rising, even in the few minutes she’s been with Izzy. Waiting could very well kill her.

If the demon was part of the Incubae family, then an orgasm could very well be exactly what Clary needs. Izzy curses herself for thinking everything was fine when they got back to the Institute. If she’d started research hours ago she might have some idea of what she’s dealing with. As it is, any sort of delay could be deadly for Clary.

Clary makes a sound that’s an equal amount moan and sob into Izzy’s neck, and Izzy decides.

_Well_ , Izzy thinks, _if this doesn’t work I can try dumping her in a cold bath_.

“Shhh,” she says into Clary’s hair, letting go of Clary’s hips to run her hand up and down Clary’s back. Clary shivers against her. “I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

“Yes,” Clary says. Without Izzy holding her back, she rubs herself against Izzy’s thigh again. “Yes, Izzy, please,” she says, and Izzy lets go and allows arousal to wash through her. She grabs onto Clary’s hair and uses it to tilt Clary’s head forward.

“I got you,” Izzy murmurs right before she takes Clary’s lips in a fierce kiss. Clary opens to her beautifully, accepting the caresses of Izzy’s tongue and making a low noise in her throat that vibrates to Izzy’s lips. The arms wrapped around Izzy’s neck get tighter, pulling them closer together. 

Part of Izzy knows that medically, Clary should orgasm as soon as possible, and it probably won’t even take that much. But another, darker and hungry part of her wants to draw it out, especially if it’s the only time she’ll get to do this. Just because it’s necessary doesn’t mean it can’t be good, right?

She breaks away from the kiss and ignores Clary’s whine when she does. With the hand still in Clary’s hair she pulls her head back, arching her neck and up back and lifting her chest. Clary’s nipples are visibly stiff beneath her tank top and Izzy leans down and sucks one into her mouth, dampening the thin fabric with her tongue.

“Fuck!” Clary gasps. Her hips move more urgently against Izzy’s thigh. Izzy presses one hand to her lower back, encouraging her.

“Are you gonna get yourself off by rubbing against my thigh?” Izzy asks and lightly bites at Clary’s nipple to see how she likes it. Clary’s indrawn breath and the way she tries to move closer to Izzy’s mouth seems like approval. She moves to bite gently at the other one, then stops. Clary moans and tries to press her nipple back to Izzy’s mouth. “Well,” Izzy asks. “Are you?” Then, lower, “It’s okay if you do.” The top of Clary’s thigh has been rubbing against Izzy’s pussy every time she moves and it feels wonderful, but she wants to hear Clary say it.

“No,” Clary says, even as she doesn’t stop rubbing. “I need _more_.”

Well, fuck. If she needs more Izzy can give her more.

She twists and dumps Clary onto the bed on her back. Clary cries out from the loss of contact, but Izzy is already pulling her boxers and panties down her legs and off. Clary scrambles to take off her tank top, clumsily trying to coordinate her arms and her torso. Then she gets completely distracted when Izzy leans up and licks her pussy.

Clary moans, deep and loud, but Izzy barely hears it. She was right, Clary is wet, so wet, and soft and perfect underneath Izzy’s mouth. Izzy pushes Clary’s thighs wider and buries her face deeper between them. Clary’s pubic hair tickles her nose as she licks and sucks and occasionally nibbles. Then Clary’s hands are cradling her head and pulling her closer and that’s even better. She gives Clary’s clit one hard suck, then licks over it gently and Clary jerks so hard Izzy is nearly thrown back. She uses her hands on Clary’s thighs to hold her down and licks at her clit again.

“Oh fuck yes,” Clary says. “Yes, Izzy, yes, please please please.”

If there’s a sweeter sound than Clary Fairchild begging Izzy to eat her out, Izzy’s never heard it.

She concentrates on Clary’s clit, sucking it into her mouth and rubbing it with her tongue. When she applies the gentlest press of her teeth, Clary cries out and comes, her thighs shaking underneath Izzy’s hands. Izzy licks her through the aftershocks, and considers staying there and making Clary come again, but Clary tugs hard on her hair saying, “Izzy, Izzy, come _here_ ,” and so Izzy lets herself be pulled up to Clary’s mouth. Her chin and cheeks are wet with spit and Clary’s juices and Clary licks at it and then licks into Izzy’s mouth. It’s so fucking hot and it reminds Izzy of how turned on she is, how wet and desperate for any part of Clary.

She lets her hips settle between Clary’s spread legs, then whines into Clary’s mouth at the barrier of her panties between them. She grinds down anyway and the friction feels so good she does it again, and again. She sucks Clary’s bottom lip into her mouth, bites at it until Clary is grinding up to meet her.

Clary’s hands slide down Izzy’s back, pulling at the waistband of her panties, then curve around her ass and pull her closer, until they can’t kiss properly anymore, just pant into each other’s mouths.

Izzy loses herself in the rising tide of her arousal, her world narrowed to friction and breath and skin. She hovers there, not quite able to finish, but unable to stop until she hears Clary speaking into the space between their mouths.

“Off, off,” Clary says. “I need to feel you, Izzy, take it off.” It’s the only thing that gives Izzy the strength to separate herself from Clary, sitting back and fumbling with her t-shirt, then her panties, then trying to get back on top of Clary as quickly as possible. She only barely catches herself from falling and giving them both broken noses.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” she says when she finally settles onto Clary, bare skin against bare skin. Everywhere they’re touching is on fire, and Izzy _wants_.

She kisses Clary again; sucks on her tongue and bites on her lips until Clary is bucking beneath her, her fingers digging into Izzy’s ass as they both try to get closer, get more.

Izzy can feel her orgasm coming now, swift and inevitable and so close. She kisses Clary harder and deeper, pouring all her doubt and confusion and love and want into it, until Clary has to break away so she can breathe, and when she does she says, “ _Izzy_ ,” like it’s the only word she knows, like she wants Izzy right back, and it abruptly tips Izzy over the edge.

Clary stiffens and makes an inarticulate sound into Izzy’s mouth. The rush of slickness between them pushes Izzy into another orgasm, or possibly prolongs her first one. All she knows is that the sensation goes on for what seems like hours, until she collapses on top of Clary, boneless and sated.

Izzy rests her head on Clary’s chest, trying to get her breath back. Clary’s heart beats frantically against her ear, and she whispers a steady mantra of “oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” into Izzy’s hair.

Izzy moves her head the two inches it takes to kiss the side of Clary’s breast and Clary arches into it with a long, low moan. Encouraged, Izzy lifts her head enough to suck Clary’s nipple into her mouth.

“Yesss, Izzy,” Clary hisses. Her hands scratch along Izzy’s scalp and Izzy nearly purrs. She flicks the nipple in her mouth with her tongue just to feel Clary squirm.

Clary’s skin is still hot and flushed beneath Izzy’s mouth; she’s obviously not done yet. Izzy slides up Clary’s body so she can nibble her way up Clary’s neck, to her ear. “What do you need, sweetheart?” she asks, and she barely recognizes her own voice, throaty and low.

“I need you,” Clary says. “I need _more_ , I can’t…”

Izzy reaches down and slips two fingers into Clary’s cunt. She’s so wet they go easily with a small, filthy squelching sound that has Izzy biting her lip. Clary lifts her hips, trying to get Izzy deeper. “More,” she says.

Izzy adds a third finger and Clary moans, pumping her hips, trying to fuck herself on Izzy’s fingers. She watches, fascinated. It’s tempting to let Clary finish herself off on Izzy’s fingers, but she suspects it won’t be enough, and she’s starting to get an even better idea. 

She circles Clary’s clit with her thumb and listens to Clary keen before she pulls her hand away entirely.

“Fuck! No, Izzy, please,” Clary pleads and it sounds so beautiful Izzy wants to let her beg for a while, but she’s too worked up herself to keep it up for long. She leans over Clary, cups her face, and kisses her lips.

“I’ve got you,” she says. “Just give me a minute.”

She hesitates for just a second before opening the bottom drawer of her nightstand. She bought this when she was still with Meliorn and they discussed playing with a third. But they broke up before they had a chance to, and the strap-on harness and dildo have been sitting unused in her toy drawer ever since.

She holds it up for Clary to see. “Okay?”

“Fuuuuck,” Clary moans, low and drawn out. She’s squirming, bunching the covers underneath her. Izzy scrambles into the harness, pulling the straps tight around her hips. The dildo is designed to sit low, pressed up against her clit, and Izzy stops herself from rubbing against it.

She shuffles up between Clary’s spread legs on her knees. She might feel a little silly except for how Clary is looking at her: with pure hunger. It makes Izzy feel flushed and powerful. Powerful enough to tease Clary’s folds with the head of the dildo. “You want this?” she asks.

“Yes,” Clary says.

Izzy starts to press forward, but stops and pulls back. Clary whines in protest. “Tell me you want it.”

“I want it,” Clary says. Izzy looks up at Clary’s face. Her cheeks are red and her hair is a mess, but her eyes are on Izzy, steady and intent.

“Tell me again,” Izzy says, not breaking eye contact.

“I want it,” Clary says again. “I want you to fuck me, come on, please, Izzy, please.”

Well fuck, Izzy can’t possibly make her wait after that. She presses in slowly. Clary is wet enough from her previous orgasms that even without lube, the dildo slides in smoothly until Izzy’s hips are pressed against Clary’s and Clary is breathing hard.

“Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” Clary is muttering, her eyes clenched shut and her hands gripping the sheets. “Izzy,” she says, and Izzy doesn’t have the patience to make her beg anymore. she pulls back and thrusts forward and Clary wails.

It takes a few tries to figure out the right distance to pull her hips back and the right angle to thrust in again, but even the trial and error is overwhelmingly hot when Clary is moaning and begging and choking on her own sounds. 

“Is that what you need, sweetheart?” Izzy asks. She folds over Clary’s chest so she can kiss Clary’s collarbone, can feel Clary’s breasts on her own.

“Yes,” Clary moans. “That’s it. Oh, _oh_.” Her hand sinks into Izzy’s hair and pulls her to her lips. She can barely make the kiss work while Izzy fucks into her, but Izzy doesn’t care. Clary panting into her mouth is just as hot.

With the dildo rubbing against her clit with every thrust and Clary whimpering into her mouth, Izzy isn’t doing much better. It takes more willpower than she thought she had to put enough space between them so she can reach between them and rub at Clary’s clit with her thumb.

Clary’s back arches and she lets out an inarticulate cry as she comes, but Izzy keeps fucking her, keeps the pressure on her clit until she’s coming again, and then Clary falls back onto the bed, panting and twitching and spent.

Clary’s skin is cool to the touch now when Izzy runs her thumb along Clary’s cheek, and Izzy knows that’s good, but can’t for the life of her remember why. All she knows, as she pulls slowly out of Clary, is that the need to come is so urgent she thinks she might die.

Her fingers are clumsy as she unbuckles the harness, her legs uncoordinated as she slides it off. She just needs … she slides her hand down to her own cunt, but stops when she hears Clary make a sound.

“Fuck, Izzy,” Clary says, her voice rough from shouting. “Come here, let me…”

Izzy doesn’t need any more encouragement. She crawls over Clary until her knees are over Clary’s shoulders and Clary’s hands are curling around Izzy’s hips, pulling her down so that Clary can lick her. Izzy grabs at the headboard for balance.

It doesn’t take very long once Clary finds her clit and lingers there, rubbing with her tongue and sucking gently. Everything coiled tight in Izzy releases suddenly as she jerks helplessly into Clary’s mouth, moaning.

Clary licks her gently through it until Izzy is so sensitive she needs to pull away. She barely controls her fall onto the bed next to Clary, so exhausted her vision is fuzzy at the edges.

But Clary is there, looking at her, and Izzy has to pull her close and kiss her, slowly now, savoring her own taste on Clary’s lips.

“Thank you,” Clary whispers, as if Izzy has done her some kind of favor.

“Anytime,” Izzy says into Clary’s mouth, because seriously. She should get the covers straightened out before they sleep, she thinks, but Clary’s skin feels so good against hers that she doesn’t want to move. 

She falls asleep like that, their limbs tangled together and her face buried in Clary’s hair.

* * *

Izzy wakes up because her arm has gone numb, trapped underneath a soft warm body and surrounded by the scent of sweat and sex and Clary’s citrus perfume.

Her other arm is curled around Clary’s middle and her face is tucked into Clary’s neck, and even with the pins and needles it’s a good way to wake up.

“Mmm,” she hums without opening her eyes and pulls Clary closer. Clary snuggles back into her and Izzy lets her hand drift over Clary’s naked hip.

_Wait. Naked?_

She blinks her eyes open to find that Clary is indeed naked, and so is she. The previous night is fuzzy in her mind. She remembers Clary coming over with ice cream. She remembers the mission. She remembers the demon. She remembers … oh.

Clary’s definitely not feverish now, her skin cool and soft to Izzy’s touch. Though Izzy will definitely be sending her to the infirmary when she wakes up. _Like you should have done last night._

Izzy extricates herself from Clary, careful not to wake her. She shakes out her numb arm and sits up against her headboard with her knees pulled to her chest. Now that she’s remembered last night, she can’t stop remembering. The way Clary looked, the way she felt, the way she begged and fell apart in Izzy’s arms. It’s so much of what Izzy’s wanted for so long, and now it’s tainted, knowing that she’s ruined what really matters.

She briefly considers fleeing the room before Clary wakes up, changing her name and transferring to Bueno Aires, but she stays where she is. Alec and Clary would probably hunt her down anyway.

Clary doesn’t sleep for much longer. It’s only a few minutes later that she stirs, flails out with one hand and finds Izzy’s ankle.

“Iz?” she mumbles, voice scratchy and sleep-rough.

“Yeah,” Izzy says. “I’m here.” Her throat feels suddenly tight and she forces back her tears. That’s not what Clary needs from her.

Clary turns over and smiles up at Izzy. “You’re up.”

Clary is so beautiful when she smiles. Izzy swallows.

“Clary, I wanted to apologize.”

Clary’s smiles drops from her face. She pushes herself up and looks around, as if looking for her clothes. When she doesn’t immediately see them she settles cross-legged on the bed, but she doesn’t say anything. It’s up to Izzy.

“Last night you came to me for help, and I … took advantage. In the most disgusting and awful way. I’m sorry.”

“Izzy, I’m alive,” Clary says. “You did help.”

“I should have taken you to the infirmary the minute we got back to the Institute.”

“We didn’t know,” Clary says. “And you got hit with that stuff too. Izzy, I’m fine. I don’t–”

“You were dying,” Izzy says. “And I took the opportunity to–” she cuts herself off, unable to continue. “I’ll turn myself in to the Clave.”

“Izzy, no!”

“Or transfer. Or stay away from you, or just never bring it up again. Whatever you want, okay?”

“Izzy–”

“Take some time to think about it,” Izzy says. “You don’t have to decide now. But you should go to the infirmary sometime today and make sure all the venom is clear.” She finally lets herself look Clary in the eye and finds them shiny with tears. “I’m really, really sorry. Let me know what you decide.”

And after that she can’t take it anymore, she gets out of bed, throws on a robe, and hightails it from her room.

* * *

Nightfall finds Izzy in the basement of the Institute, bent over a microscope in the morgue.

She figured people would be less likely to look for her here than in the weapons room, but she forgot that Alec and Jace aren’t most people, and both have been down to bother her since she logged the confidential mission report from last night.

At least Alec brought food.

At least her misery is making her productive. She’s managed to fully analyse Clary’s blood sample and is halfway through her own. Results would be better if she had samples from immediately after exposure, but that’s her own fault. The fact that she was affected by the venom as well, though much less than Clary, doesn’t make her feel better. She’s rewriting the post-mission medical protocols in her head when she hears the click of high heels walking down the hallway to her morgue.

It could be any number of people, but she knows it’s Clary. She takes three seconds to take a deep breath and collect herself before she raises her head from her microscope. She told Clary she would abide by her decision and she has to be ready to hear it.

“Hey,” she says and leans back against the counter. She crosses her arms to keep herself from fiddling with the sleeves of her lab coat.

“Hey,” Clary says. She looks good. Healthy, no side effects from the venom that Izzy can see. She’s dressed for patrol later in dark pants and a black t-shirt. Izzy loves her so much her stomach hurts. 

They’ve been standing in silence now for an awkwardly long time, but Izzy has no idea how to start this conversation, or even what this conversation really is, so she lets it go on.

“I came to apologize,” Clary says eventually. That’s not what Izzy was expecting to hear.

“What?”

“Last night, I put you in an impossible situation. I put you in a position of having to save me despite … despite your own needs or wants. So I’m sorry.”

“You weren’t thinking clearly,” Izzy says. 

“But I was,” Clary says. “Or, well, maybe not very clearly, but I could think. Enough to know what was happening and to guess what it was going to take to stop it. I could have gone to the infirmary. I could have gone to anyone in the Institute. But I went to you because,” Clary stops, swallows, then starts again, her voice strong. “Because if I needed to have sex to save my life, I wanted it to be with someone I wanted to have sex with anyway.”

“You – what?”

“But I didn’t think through how that would make you feel,” Clary goes on, “or that you might not even want to–”

“I did,” Izzy interrupts. 

“Oh,” Clary says. Then, “You mean you were hit with the demon vapor too so…”

“Before the demon,” Izzy says. “For a long time before the demon.” This shouldn’t be so hard to say at this point, but it is. Izzy forces herself to continue. “Last night, I felt like maybe I didn’t try as hard as I should have to find another solution, because I was getting what I wanted, even though you weren’t really in your right mind.”

Clary takes a few hesitant steps toward her. “Maybe it’s not how I would have chosen to tell you, but Izzy, I promise you, you didn’t take advantage.” She steps closer, enough that if Izzy could reach out and touch her, if she could move. “Or if you did, it was only after I took advantage first. Besides,” she looks down at the ground, and then back up through her eyelashes, smiling a little. “It was kind of the best sex of my life. I mean, wow.”

That startles a laugh out of Izzy and some of the tension bleeds from her arms and shoulders.

“Me too,” she says.

“Really?” Clary asks.

“Really,” Izzy says, and finally lets her arms fall to her sides.

“So.” Clary takes another step. Izzy can feel her body heat now, but Clary stops just inches away. “When you said for a long time...”

“Pretty much since I met you,” Izzy admits, and it doesn’t feel so hard now. It feels good. Izzy realizes that she’s smiling, and doesn’t feel the need to stop any time soon.

“Oh,” Clary says. “That’s good. That’s … really good.” She bites her lip, like she’s not sure what to do now. That’s okay, because Izzy is finally pretty sure that she does. She reaches up to cup Clary’s cheek with her hand, but stops before she can touch.

“Is this okay?”

Clary nods but otherwise doesn’t move, waiting for Izzy. Izzy moves the last half of an inch without any more hesitation, letting her fingers curl around Clary’s ear and her thumb trace her cheekbone. Clary sighs in relief and closes her eyes. Izzy uses her other hand to pull her close by her waist, until they’re touching down the lengths of their whole bodies. Clary tucks her head between Izzy’s neck and shoulder and Izzy can feel her relax.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” Izzy says, stroking Clary’s hair, “I just thought…”

“That I was going to get back together with Jace?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Did you know he came back this morning with his shirt inside out?”

“Oh my God. Are we going to tease him about this forever?”

“Obviously.” Clary lifts her head to look Izzy in eye, and they’re so close now it makes Izzy a little dizzy. “Izzy, I don’t care what happened before or how long it took, as long as we’re together now. Are we?”

“Of course we are,” Izzy says.

And then Clary kisses her, right there in the morgue, and she decides Clary is right. It’s perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. You can find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/users/beatperfume)|[Tumblr](http://beatperfume.tumblr.com)|[Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/beatperfume) come yell with me about Clizzy and other sundries. <3


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